Once in a Lifetime
by Mina3
Summary: Four years and an ocean's separation, is the bond of two young men strong enough to survive adulthood?
1. Part I

**Once in a Lifetime —**  
Part I  
by Mina

  


Standard disclaimers for Digimon apply. _Once in a Lifetime_ (at least, the version I'm listening to ^_^) is sung by Sarah Brightman, the true diva of divas in my opinion. I found the lyrics to be exquisitely appropriate for this fic and the (::cough::psychotic::cough::) idea behind it. My Spanish is so minimal anymore I had to resort to the lovely Spanish-English dictionary for help, so if there are discrepancies, I apologise. 

P.S. All suing would get you is this stack of bills I'm avoiding, this little Post-It note my imouto stuck to my monitor that says 'You have no life!' ::Duh!::, and the rabid foxboy running around with a tube of wasabi. ::wails:: 'Lendel-chaaan! Come back! 

K'lendel: No! ::mad cackle:: Do not meddle in the affairs of foxboy muses, Mina-kaachan, for you are crunchy and taste good with wasabi! 

::sweatdrop:: Well, that explains the wasabi at least…. 

Warnings: Shounen ai, yaoi, fluff, angst—lots of angst, bad language, odd pairings, free license in naming children and parents, Taiyama/Yamatai, Daiken/Kendai, Takehika, Jyoumi, free floating guilt complexes, Kaiser appearances, Kaidai moments (If you wonder why I don't call Ken the Kaiser when he's in Kaiser-mode…you'll see. ^_~), over-psychoanalysation of everything, and, um…I think that covers all of it. I think. Admittedly, not as often as I should, but I do think occasionally. ^_^ 

Oddly enough, this was written before I got the episode where Jun decides to set her sights on Shuu. ::shudder:: Okay, I'm like waaay too psychic when it comes to this series. 

Extra Warnings: Well…you see, I kind of wrote the original story and let it sit on my hard drive for a long time, since I had all these other stories that I wanted to write to come before it. And then, when I pulled this back up to proof, I didn't like it. 30+ pages of work and I didn't like it at all. So what did I do? I revamped the entire damn thing—while listening to nothing but _'Gravitation'_ music and Kotani Kinya. Start to finish, this is practically a brand new story. And one of the things that came out in that revamping was Ken's Kaiser-side turning out to be extremely horny. ::groans:: In other words, this fic had now earned a lovely LIME and LEMON-LIME scented warning! 

K'lendel: Brought to you by the Ecchibi Muse Scented Fic Stickers Cooperative! 

::whimper:: Take me now, Lord! 

Now, if you took the time to read this whole boring and babbling monologue, the muse and I salute you. 

K'lendel: And we give you a cookie! 

Er, right. On with the insanity!! 

* * *

The humid, sticky air of Tokyo summertime felt odd and uncomfortable, yet distantly familiar as Motomiya Daisuke stepped from the air-conditioned taxi out onto the sidewalk. He grinned as he looked up the length of the apartment building face, spotting easily the place he'd called home before he'd left for college.     "Is it a school holiday over there, then?" the cab driver asked, trying not to appear nosy as he helped Daisuke remove the luggage from the trunk.     "No." Daisuke shook his head, brushing bangs from his eyes. "Well, actually, it is a holiday of sorts over there, but that's not why I came back. I finally graduated in May, so I came home to see my family for a bit before I try to get a job."     "I see!" The driver smiled, closing the trunk before accepting the bills that were handed to him. "Good luck then, Motomiya-san."     "Thanks."     Once the cab had pulled away and he was standing all alone outside the apartment building, Daisuke squared his shoulders and mentally prepared himself. He picked up his bags, heading for the elevator; he would need all the luck he could get, he thought with a wry smile—     —he hadn't been home in over four years, after all. 

It felt odd to knock on his own door, but that's what Daisuke did, standing outside the apartment patiently. He heard movement inside, the clatter of feet racing across the floor, and then the door was flung open and Daisuke found himself face to face with a frowning pug face and narrowed hazel eyes, all crowned by an unruly mop of blue-black hair. 

    "Who're you?" the child demanded.     Daisuke grinned, putting his hands on his hips. "I don't know, who're you?"     "Mama said don' talk ta strangers, so I'm not tellin'."     _Sounds just like me at that age,_ Daisuke thought wryly. He winked at the little boy and said in a secretive tone, "Why, I bet that you're Kidou Izumi."     The little boy gaped in astonishment. "How'd you know my name?"     "Izumi-chan! How many times have I told you not…to…" Kidou Jun trailed off as she saw who her young son was talking to, her eyes wide in astonishment. "Otouto-chan?"     "Yaa, Aneki, it's been awhile, hasn't it?"     Jun's eyes teared up as she stepped forward, looking him over from head to toe. "Is it really you, Daisuke?"     Daisuke flashed a familiar grin, hands tucked into his short pockets. "That's what the passport said when I went through Customs."     Despite the fact that they were out on the apartment landing, Jun threw her arms around her little brother with a stifled sob. "Kami-sama, Daisuke, I've missed you so much!"     "Nee, Aneki, it's okay." Daisuke awkwardly embraced his sister, feeling a little surprised as he realised she was now several inches shorter than he was.     After a moment, Jun stepped back, dabbing her eyes with the small washcloth she held in her hands. "Sorry about that. I'm pregnant again, and it seems like my emotions keep getting the best of me."     "So that's your excuse now, huh? Pregnancy? It used to be PMS," he said teasingly.     "Daisuke!" She thwacked him on the shoulder with the washcloth, smiling as he pretended to be wounded. "Really though, Otouto, you have been missed."     Izumi tugged on his mother's pant leg, looking up at her quizzically. "Mama, who is he? He knows my name, Mama."     "I should hope so!" Jun bent down and scooped up her son, settling him on her hip. "This is your uncle, Daisuke. He's my little brother."     "Ojisan Daisuke?" The little boy wrinkled his nose. "How come I never met him, Mama? I know Ojisan Jyou and Mimi-bachan, an' I know Ojisan Yama and Jichan Tai, an' I know Obasan Sora and Miya-bachan, an' all my other aunts and uncles, but I don't know Ojisan Daisuke."     Daisuke blinked as Izumi rattled off the list of names without pausing for breath. Jun's son exhibited quite a few Motomiya traits it seemed.     "Daisuke has been at school in America," Jun said with a smile, poking the boy on the tip of the nose. "Now he's all done and he came home to visit." Looking up at Daisuke questioningly, she added, "I thought your plane wasn't getting in till three."     "The flight got in early and I thought I'd surprise everyone. Where're Okaasan and Otousan?"     "Out grocery shopping." Jun laughed, a hint of her familiar madcap humour in her eyes. "When you told them you were coming home, they figured they'd better stock up the pantry for your hollow leg."     Groaning, Daisuke buried his face in his hands. "Aneki! I was eighteen years old when I left. I really don't eat that much anymore."     Jun arched an eyebrow in disagreement. "Uh-huh, sure. Don't try and tell that to a married woman, Dai-chan; I am still trying to figure out where Shuu puts it all."     Daisuke grinned at her expression, shaking his head. It felt good to talk with his sister again, face to face. Though their relationship had been strained at times, he had always known, deep down, that Jun would be there for him—and that she would always be "Jun."     Smiling at Izumi, who was looking him over with a curious frown, he asked, "So, is it all right if I come in?"     In typical three-year-old style, Izumi frowned and thought about it for a moment. "Do you have candy, Daisuke-jisan?"     _He really is too much like me at that age._ As if by magic, Daisuke passed his hands together and produced a cellophane covered sucker. "Will this do?"     Izumi's eyes lit up and he squirmed from his mother's grasp. "Yatta!"     "Izumi, what do you say?" Jun asked sternly as the boy reached for the candy.     Beaming brightly up at his newly met uncle, the boy chirped in syllabant child fashion, "A-ri-ga-to-u go-za-i-ma-su!"     "You're welcome," Daisuke chuckled, relinquishing the sucker.     Jun sighed as her son scampered inside with his sweet. "You're going to spoil him rotten, aren't you?"     "Every chance I get," Daisuke replied cheerfully, picking up his bags once again. "I have three years to make up for, after all. My room still free?"     "Kaasan and Tousan haven't changed a thing."     "That's nice." He paused to toe his shoes off and change into house slippers before heading up into the main room of the apartment. "I'm hooome!" he carolled before heading off towards his room.     Closing the door and leaning against it with a sigh, Jun smiled fondly at her little brother's retreating back. "Welcome home, Dai-chan. Welcome home." 

* * *

Daisuke's parents returned home, and a celebratory dinner was prepared with a full family effort. When Shuu finally made it to the apartment, he found his wife wrestling with Daisuke on the floor over a can of powder sugar-covered hard candy, his son cheering them on. 

    "Are you twenty-six or six?" he asked Jun with a laugh, setting his briefcase down and taking his coat off.     "Six!" she declared with a brilliant peal of laughter, jumping up to help him remove his jacket. "Welcome back, anata," she murmured with a bow.     "Stop that." Shuu blushed faintly as he grabbed her hand, leading her back into the main room.     Izumi had taken Jun's place, and the wrestling session had quickly devolved into a tickle war, the candy lying forgotten in a corner where it had been tossed. From Daisuke's howls of laughter, Izumi was winning.     "How was your flight, Daisuke-kun?" Shuu asked, peering down at the young man with a grin.     "Great…fine! Ouch, Izumi, tickling's okay, but don't pinch."     "Sorry, Jichan," the boy said with a sheepish grin.     Shuu laughed, shaking his head. "Don't pick on Daisuke too much, Izumi."     "Yes, Papa!"     Motomiya Reiko paused in the doorway of the kitchen, a blissful smile on her face as she took in the living room full of smiling, happy people. Her eyes were a bit sad, though, as she turned to her husband. "We should have been home more when they were younger, Tetsuro."     "Can't live our lives on 'should haves,'" Tetsuro replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. "All that matters is that they're here with us now."     "You're right." Reiko sighed, straightening her apron. "Dinner's ready!"     Daisuke and Izumi stopped in mid-tickle, each wearing an ecstatic grin. "I'll beat you to the table," Daisuke dared the boy with a grin.     "Will not!" Izumi retorted, jumping up and making a mad dash for the table. Daisuke followed with a laugh right on his heels.     Dinner was a loud, boisterous affair, littered with numerous wild tales from both Jun and Daisuke. After a while, though, things subsided as the family cleared the dishes and returned to a more sedate setting in the living room.     Reiko brought out a tray with rice balls and tea, setting them down on the middle of the table. "So, Daisuke, what are your plans?" she asked, setting out the cups and pouring tea.     "Mostly to get in a couple of months of rest and relaxation," Daisuke said with a small sigh. "Between work and school for the past four years, I've had no more than a stolen weekend here and there to myself."     Shuu smiled at his brother-in-law, giving him a teasing look over the rim of his glasses. "Of course, changing your major in the middle of your second year probably didn't help things."     "It only took two summer sessions and a winter interim to get caught up," the auburn-haired man muttered, a flush staining his dark cheeks. "It wasn't that expensive, either, since my soccer scholarship paid for most of my fall and spring semesters, and what _that_ didn't cover my drama and art scholarships did. My job on campus paid for the extra sessions, so unlike some of my fellow classmates, I got lucky; I don't have too huge a pile of debt waiting for me when I enter the workforce."     "Speaking of workforce…" Tetsuro looked up from his newspaper, a small grin on his face. "What are you going to do with that degree of yours, Daisuke?"     "Don't know for sure yet, Tousan," he said, frowning at the rice balls sitting in the centre of the table; they were really tempting. "I mean, it's a psychology degree with a double emphasis in business and criminology; I could consult on everything from product advertisement and the social environment of the work place, to profiling criminals and trying to establish their motives."     Jun laughed, shaking her head in amusement. "Who'd have thought my little brother would grow up and major in psychology, as well as get an associate's in art. That has to be one of the oddest combinations ever."     "Nope, there's one even odder," Daisuke retorted with a familiar grin of mischief. "My roommate second year was a double major in quantum physics and math, as well as a minor in art."     Shuu nearly choked on his drink, raising an eyebrow. "That had to be an…interesting experience," he said, trying to keep from laughing out right. "How did the two of you get paired together?"     Daisuke snickered and shrugged his shoulders. "Luck of the draw, I guess. The guy's art was almost creepy, it was so technical and precise. But he sure had new and innovative ways to explain math when it began to seem too hard for me.     "What are the others up to?" he asked, suddenly changing the topic. No one was thrown off guard, though, since "abrupt topic change" had been a Daisuke habit for years.     Jun settled a sleeping Izumi in her arms, eyebrows drawn together as she thought. "Well, let's see… You got the invitation to Hikari-chan and Takeru's wedding, right?"     "Yeah. It's sometime in August. Takeru wrote me an e-mail that was hilarious about how Hikari-chan had to make sure their wedding date was approved by a Shinto priest, a Buddhist monk, as well as Gennai and his multiple offshoots."     "Jyou is moving into an office with the man he did his medical internship with and should start practising in a week or two." Shuu smiled slyly, saying, "I think he's almost gotten up the nerve to ask Mimi if she'll marry him."     "Well, they've only been living together for how long? I mean, I realise that Mimi was worried about hurting his career, but after they had Hanako, I would have thought they'd have gotten married. How's Mimi doing with her design business, anyway?" Daisuke asked, giving in to temptation and snagging one of the rice balls.     "Pretty good for someone only twenty-five years old," Jun said with a laugh. "She's designed the dresses I've worn to the college faculty Christmas Gala for the past four years, and that's helped her to gain a fairly respectable clientele. And, of course, little Hanako is a complete darling; I've never seen a toddler with such a sweet temperament."     "What about Sora-san, and Miyako?"     Daisuke's mother smiled at the mention of Miyako's name. "Miyako-chan stopped by just last week. She left a present for you, since she was heading out of town and won't be back for a couple days."     "She said to say 'Hey, brat, I found these and thought you'd want them. Stick around long enough to visit or I'll kick your butt,'" Jun added with a laugh.     Daisuke grinned and shook his head. "That geek. Did she really say 'kick your butt' or did you change that?"     Jun put on her 'mother' expression, both eyebrows raised. "There is a child present, Otouto. And you know Miyako well enough to know what she'd really say."     "She's doing well at her job working for Sony," Reiko gushed. "She's already moved up to the position of Sound Editing Production Assistant. She's also been offered jobs by Toei, Square, and Bandai, but she doubts that she'll leave anytime soon."     "Isn't Koushirou-san working for Sony now?" Daisuke asked, smiling as Izumi rolled over in his sleep and accidentally pulled his mother's hair.     "Yeah." Jun winced, untangling her son's fingers from her shoulder-length locks. "He's consulting with three different company branches, I think, working on security systems."     "And he's still working on unlocking the mysteries of the D-3 and D-terminal," Shuu added. "Sora's helping her dad out this semester at the college before going back on the tennis circuit. She thinks this will be her last year, though, since she's tired of all the travel, and she'd like to help her mom out more with the flower shop."     "Iori's attending college at Tokyo University, and he's turning into a little history sponge. Takeru came by with him the other day, and I think Iori spent the entire lunch relating the facts of the Shinsengumi. He could tell you who led what division, how long they'd been there, their personal history, their sword technique, and how they died," Jun said with a hint of exasperation.     Laughing at her expression, Daisuke said, "Well, he practically slept, ate, and breathed kendo, so I'm not surprised he has the Shinsengumi history memorized."     "Yamato's still cranking out songs." Jun smiled fondly. "Taichi was joking the last time we met for dinner that he was going to be married to a rock star for life." Suddenly, her eyes widened and she smiled mischievously. "Oh, god, you're going to die when you hear this! I can't believe I almost forgot. Taichi—Mr. 'Genki-is-a-trademark-and-I-have-the-license-_and_-copyright'—is taking _diplomacy_ classes!"     Daisuke gaped in astonishment before breaking into laughter. "Taichi being diplomatic? Heh, our idea of diplomacy is to give two seconds warning before we run someone over!"     He sobered slightly after a moment, settling deeper into the couch. "Although, I've gotta admit, I've learned to think before opening my mouth a lot more than I used to—kind of had to in order to get my degree—so it shouldn't be much of a surprise."     He yawned suddenly, and covered his mouth in surprise. "Wow. Guess the time difference is catching up with me."     "Yes, you've had a long day," said Reiko, smiling fondly. "Why don't you go ahead and go to bed, Dai-chan? Your father and I don't have anything planned for tomorrow, so sleep as long as you like."     "Thanks, Kaasan." Daisuke grinned as he stood and stretched, glad to among family. "I'll see you later, Aneki, Shuu. G'night everyone."     Walking back to his room, he closed the door with a sigh. He stripped down to his boxers and checked the air conditioner temperature, turning it down a notch. Flipping the light off, he toed his slippers off and fell into his bed, not even bothering with the sheets. _It's good to be home,_ he thought with a sleepy smile before his eyes slid shut and all thought ceased. 

* * *

It was nearly three days later when Daisuke received the shock of his life. He was sprawled out on the couch reading the latest monthly copy of "Jump" and nibbling on a stick of Pocky when he noticed a small, square package on top of his mother's magazine stack. Curious, he set the comic aside and went to take a look, grinning when he read the tag. 'To: Brat, From: Geek' 

    _Must be the present Kaasan told me about. Can't believe I forgot about something as important as that._ He picked up the present and returned to the couch to open it.     It wasn't very large but it was fairly heavy, and was decorated with tiny Poromons sticking out their tongues. It looked odd but it did make him laugh, which had probably been Miyako's intention. He pulled the paper off and found a note tucked into the seam of the top. 

_'Hey, Daisuke! _

    Heard from your mom and sister that you were finally coming back to visit. I was beginning to wonder if a mouldering corpse in some dorm room in America was writing your e-mails, it's been so long since I've seen you! Anyway, this is your welcome home present from me. Hikari-chan actually took the first picture and we found it while going through some old boxes of hers last week. The other picture I found at Mimi's and I thought if anyone should have it, it should be you. Although, I was really tempted to keep it for myself, it's so drool-worthy—so I hope you appreciate me, brat! ^_^     I'll be back in town around the ninth, so expect a visit, and expect me to throttle you for every last detail. 

—Miyako' 

    Daisuke was now extremely curious. If there were pictures in the present, Miyako must have framed them before putting them in the box. Ripping the tape on top, he pulled the topmost picture from the shredded paper packing, and smiled in memory at the moment Hikari had managed to capture on film.     It was a picture taken in Odaiba Park during the evening about nine years ago. Daisuke sat with his back to the tree, Chibimon in his lap. Both wore smiles as Daisuke pointed out something in the distance to the little digimon.     _That was a happy day for both of us. It was the first time Chibimon had ever eaten shaved ice, and he got it all over. Heh, he had blue all around his mouth from the flavouring and he'd been worried it would stain permanently._     He'd have to thank both Miyako and Hikari for the photo; the moment captured was a fond one.     Reaching back into the box, he pulled out the second photograph and brushed the clinging paper strips off. He frowned when he saw that it was wrapped in heavy paper, and snorted when he saw the note written in Miyako's elaborate kana with bright red marker. 

    _'Thought it would be easy, huh? I'm making you work for this one, brat! ^_~ I'll have you know that I had to beg and plead with Mimi to part with this, so I figured that you should have to put a little effort into this as well. Don't worry, it's worth it!'_

    "Ch', Miyako no baka…" Daisuke flipped the picture over to find the seams of the paper. He grabbed an edge and tore it, peeling the paper off.     Flipping it back over, he glanced at the image and had to do a double take. With eyes that slowly widened as he took in the image, he first held the picture to his nose, and then as far away as possible. No matter what he did, though, the image remained the same. "I don't believe it," he muttered out loud, not even realising it.     Gripping the photo, he ran to the phone and punched in Jun's number. 

Jun was struggling to get Izumi to take his nap when the phone rang. She frowned as her son took the opportunity the momentary distraction afforded to scamper into hiding, but went to answer the phone anyway. 

    "Moshi moshi?"     "Aneki, what the hell is this?! Er, moshi moshi. This is your brother, by the way."     "I guessed that," Jun said dryly, returning the phone to an ear she could hear from. "And what are you talking about, Daisuke?"     "This _picture_!" Daisuke snapped, as if it should explain everything.     "_What_ picture? Daisuke, I have no idea what you're talking about!"     Daisuke sighed. "The present Miyako left for me was two photographs; one from when I was a kid with Chibimon, and the other… Ch', what the hell is _Ken_ doing lying two-thirds dressed on a white sheet and surrounded by rose petals? Rose petals!"     It took Jun a moment to take in what Daisuke was saying. "Oh. Oh! Miyako must have been looking through Mimi's photo shoot collection. Didn't you know?" she asked with a frown.     "Know? Know what? The last time I heard from Ken was two and a half weeks ago, and all he said was that things were fine and he was thinking about studying Mexican cuisine."     Jun's eyes widened at that. "Ken-kun started modelling for Mimi's ads and catalogue about five months ago. I can't believe he didn't tell you."     Daisuke clutched the picture to his chest, the image burned into his mind even when he closed his eyes. "Neither can I." 

After hanging up with his sister, he thought about dialling Ken's number to demand an answer, but his hand hesitated over the phone and he decided against it. 

    Sighing, he went back to the couch and threw himself down, bringing the picture into view once again. There was no mistaking the long, ebony hair that fanned out across the draped sheet, nor was there any mistaking the lidded blue-violet eyes and shyly seductive smile. It was the pose that was disturbing Daisuke's peace of mind, though; the languid sprawl, one arm over his head, the other over his abdomen, fingers splayed on his bare stomach. The black jeans he wore rode low on his hips, the top button undone, and the dark crimson tanktop rode high, exposing quite a bit of smooth, pale skin. The white dress shirt was gauzy, see-through, and was worn completely unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up.     The eyes and faint smile said "Come closer," while the pose said "Take me, I'm yours." And Daisuke, lightly tracing a finger over the image, wondered just how many had taken up that offer in the four years he'd been gone.     _There was a time that look was mine. Ken…why? Why didn't you tell me? And why now? What else haven't you been telling me?_

* * *

Taichi was actually the first to visit Daisuke that week, two days after Daisuke had found the evocative picture of Ken, and he came with little Natsue and Touma in tow. The twins were nearing the terrible two's as the brunette warned him when Daisuke let them in. 

    Chibimon had returned from his visit to the Digitalworld, and he sat on his Chosen's shoulder, peering down into the stroller in curiosity. "Did you look that that once, Daishuke?" he asked.     Daisuke chuckled and shook his head. "Heh, I didn't get that cute till later. Naa, Taichi, are you sure your cousin didn't _really_ sleep with Yamato?"     "Positive," Taichi said dryly from his sprawled position on the couch. "Why do you ask, though?"     Twin sets of clear, brilliant blue eyes watched Chibimon and Daisuke curiously, unwaveringly. "Because I swear those are his eyes they have."     "They do look like his," the brunette murmured. "Personally, I consider it a coincidental bonus. I mean, I was completely shocked when Maiko approached us with the idea of raising her children, but… Hell, Dai-kun, you know my mothering streak! She refused to have an abortion, but she knew she couldn't take care of the children herself—and that was before she knew she was having twins! And with Yama gone on tour this past year…" He smiled fondly, shaking his head. "These two—and Agumon and Gabumon—have been the only things keeping me sane."     Natsue leaned forward in the stroller, her tiny hands gripping the sides as she scowled at Taichi. "Touchan, Natsue out!"     Touma leaned forward as well, though he was grinning as he thumped the sides with his fists. "Touma out, Touchan! Out, out!"     Taichi groaned good-naturedly and got to his feet. "Okay, munchkins, I'll let you out. Just try not to break anything?"     The pair smiled innocently and nodded as he set them down. "Okay!" came the chorused chirp.     "For some reason I don't believe you," Taichi muttered as he returned to his seat.     Natsue crawled forward to where Chibimon had jumped down to the floor. She tipped her head to the side, tiny pigtails of dark brown hair bobbing as she looked him over; Chibimon mimicked her, red eyes blinking curiously. Hesitantly she reached out and poked him in the belly; Chibimon squeaked in surprise and giggled. A smile lit up the child's face as she squealed, "Digimon!" and glomped the poor, startled Chibimon.     "Now she's going to want a Chibimon too," Taichi said with a resigned sigh. "She's already got a Koromon, a Tsunomon, and a Salamon on her Christmas list. Sorry I forgot to warn you, Daisuke; Natsue's recently become obsessed with In-Training level digimon—thinks they're absolutely the neatest thing since Yama's Spontaneous Casserole."     Daisuke chuckled as Touma joined in on the Chibimon-mauling session. "I'll remember to have him evolve to Veemon the next time you visit."     "How'd he handle being in America?" Taichi asked curiously, keeping a careful watch on his children to make sure they didn't get too rough.     "Not very well, really," the auburn-haired man replied ruefully. "He'd be fine for awhile, but especially near the end of every semester when I'd be working on final papers and studying for final tests, he'd get really depressed because I couldn't spend time with him. I'd usually call up Ken or Miyako then and have them pick him up in the Digitalworld and watch him for a while. At least, that way, he got to be with his friends for a bit."     "How come _you_ never came back and visited that way, huh?"     Daisuke pursed his lips. "It's the strangest thing, Taichi—even Koushirou-san can't figure it out yet, and he's been working on it for four years. I could open the Digital Gate and let Chibimon through, but _I_ couldn't go through. Shuu has a theory-in-progress that it's because America is lacking the same huge spiritual base with ties to the Digitalworld like we have here in Japan that it didn't work." He flashed a grin. "Believe me, I was disappointed; I was hoping to save on airfare!"     Taichi laughed at that, shaking his head. "I swear, Daisuke, if we live to be a hundred, you'll never change."     "And that's a _bad_ thing?" Daisuke retorted, arching an eyebrow. "You know, most people love my boyish charm and good looks."     The brunette flashed him a crooked grin. "Dai-kun…"     "What?"     "Nothing," Taichi said with a slight sigh. "Speaking of people who love your boyish charm and good looks, have you spoken to Ken yet?"     Daisuke flinched, glancing away. "N-not yet," he said hesitantly.     Both eyebrows rose at that comment. "Have you even tried to contact him, Daisuke?"     Smoky-brown eyes turned to him, wary, tinged with a wounded air that made Taichi instantly on alert. "I've tried to call twice," Daisuke said softly. "The first time, the line was busy, and the second time there was no answer."     Now Taichi was _really_ worried. Before Daisuke had left for college, he and Ken had been so close, so tight with one another, that even he had been jealous of their relationship; and his relationship with Yamato was quite close. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and gave Daisuke his full attention. "All right, Dai-kun, spill. What's going on?"     "Truthfully? I'm not sure." Daisuke made an attempt at smiling as he watched Touma try to balance Chibimon on his head. "It's just, kind of, this feeling I have. I mean, after finding that picture of Ken a couple days ago and talking with Aneki… I think"—he flushed slightly—"I think that Ken's been lying to me. Or, at least, there're a lot of things he hasn't been telling me."     Taichi let out a low whistle. "That's a pretty hefty accusation."     "I know. Believe me, I've thought about it a lot, and that's part of the reason I came to that conclusion." Daisuke looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. "I'm scared, Taichi. Ken…Ken's been the light in my life since I was twelve years old. I didn't…I didn't even realise that anything was wrong, you know?" He sighed, burying his face in his hands. "I swear, sometimes I'm just as stupid as I was when I was twelve."     "Don't say that!" Taichi snapped sharply; the last thing he needed to deal with was a depressed Daisuke. "You are not, nor were you ever, stupid, Motomiya Daisuke. I have the invite to your graduation that says you graduated Magna Cum Laude, remember? And as for this thing with Ken, you've been gone for four years! Give it some time to work itself out; and believe me, even after something as minor as a two week separation, you have a lot of things to work out."     Daisuke nodded, biting his lip. "It's just…it hurts, Tai."     Taichi smiled wryly. "Love does that."     "Yeah." The auburn-haired man murmured that admission so quietly that Taichi almost missed it. The children and Chibimon went on playing obliviously, their cheer barely making a dent in the dark cloud that was beginning to form around him.     _Hang in there, my friend. You two have been through so much together, don't give up now._

_Cuando anochezca_

    **When the night falls**  
_Te esperare_     **I will wait for you**  
_Quiero volverte loco esta noche_     **I want to drive you crazy tonight**  
_Con la luna llena_     **With the full moon**  
_Te esperare_     **I will wait for you**  
_Hoy moriras entre mis brazos_     **Today you will die in my arms**  
_Nunca sonaras de mi aun igual_     **Never will you dream of me the same**  


Later that night, Daisuke lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. Chibimon was curled up peacefully on his belly, a familiar Cheshire expression of contentment on his too-cute face. 

    He turned his gaze to the phone beside him, a deep sigh slipping from his lips unnoticed. Three more times he'd tried calling since Taichi had left, and all three times there had been no answer. _At least the answering machine picked up this time…_     But he didn't want to talk to an answering machine; he wanted to talk to Ken. More than talking to Ken, he wanted to see the boy.     _Man,_ he reminded himself. _Both of us…both of us have grown up. We're not little boys anymore, but I…I still love him._ He pressed his fist to his chest, feeling the slow throb of his heart beneath. _I know that, in here. Your heart, with mine—always, Ken, no matter what._     It hurt, it really did. He was beginning to feel so many doubts, so many insecurities that he had thought long since gone. He remembered the fight with Belial Vamdemon, remembered how he had been the only one without insecurities for the evil Virus digimon to prey on. _What happened to that boy?_ he wondered, smoky eyes clouding. _That boy, who loved and was loved, who cared and was cared for? What happened to that carefree boy who knew so certainly what he wanted in life?_     At the moment, there weren't many things that Motomiya Daisuke was sure of. He had no idea what direction his life was going to take, he had no idea what sort of speed bumps and potholes were going to be in his path, he had no way of knowing if he was even going anywhere.     He was certain of one thing, though. He wanted Ichijouji Ken, no matter what; he _needed_ Ichijouji Ken, no matter what.     But he wasn't certain that Ichijouji Ken wanted or needed him. And that thought, with tears slowly leaking from the corners of his eyes unnoticed, was what accompanied Daisuke into sleep. 

* * *

Inoue Miyako woke up at the crack of dawn with a smile on her face. Well, she considered ten in the morning the crack of dawn since it was well before when she usually woke up when she was on vacation, and she _was_ smiling. Her best friend was back in town after four years of being gone, and they had a lot of catching up to do. 

    "He's probably changed a lot," she murmured to her companion, who walked carefully beside her down the street.     "Oh, I don't know, Miyako," Hawkmon said. "Daisuke has always seemed like the kind of person who would remain the same, no matter what."     "I don't mean deep down, Hawkmon. After all, if he changed _that_ much, he just wouldn't be Motomiya Daisuke anymore. But it's been four years since I last saw him outside of a photo here and there. And he was on a growth spurt when he left, so I'm sure he's a lot taller, too."     Hawkmon patted her arm reassuringly, smiling in a way that only birds can. "Don't worry, Miyako. I'm certain that things will be all right. The last time we talked with Veemon, he said that Daisuke was happy and doing well."     Miyako smiled ruefully. "I know. It's just…it's kind of like how Misao threatens to kill all those boys that break my heart, you know? I feel really protective of Daisuke, even if he is twenty-three now. It'll probably always be that way."     They continued the walk silently, entering the apartment building and settling into the elevator. When they reached the end of the hallway and stood in front of the Motomiya apartment, Miyako was a little startled to find there was a note attached to the door, addressed to her.     It was from Jun, left not more than an hour ago. And as Miyako began to scan the contents, she couldn't help but smile a little despite what it said; Jun had written it in that commanding, take-no-prisoners tone that only an older sibling or a parent could muster. 

_'Miyako-chan— _

    I hate to drop this on your shoulders, but the fact of the matter is that my parents and I are about ready to pull our hair out. Something's up with Daisuke, and he's not talking about it with any of us. Since the day after he got back, he's done nothing but mope and be depressed, and we don't even know why! I've tried Pocky bribes, I've tried annoying it out of him, and I've even tried threatening him. You're kind of our last hope in this. Knock some sense into my otouto-chan before I'm forced to do something drastic like throw him out the apartment window! 

Yours,  
Kidou Jun 

P.S. Don't hurt him too badly. Blood stains, you know. ^_^' 

    _What could have happened?_ Miyako wondered. Daisuke had sounded fine enough when she'd talked to him on the phone, earlier.     Hawkmon tugged on her coat to gain her attention. "Miyako, what's wrong?"     She smiled down at him, tucking the note into her pocket. "I don't know, Hawkmon, but we're going to find out." That said, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.     It took a moment, but then the door was opened and there stood Motomiya Daisuke, bigger and even better looking than she had remembered.     Smiling up at him, Miyako planted her fists on her hips and said saucily, "No fair! You got taller than me!"     "It was bound to happen some day," Daisuke returned, tone lofty. Then he grinned and said, "Besides, you finally got a figure. What are you complaining for?"     "Oh, you!" She swung at him playfully, laughing the whole while. He caught her fist easily, pulling her inside the apartment and into a hug. "I've missed you, Dai-kun," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck as he picked her up off her feet.     "I missed you too, Miya-chan." Setting her back down on her feet, he poked the tip of her nose with a fond smile. "I had no one over there to gossip with. Not to mention the fact that I had no one to keep me in line without you and Aneki there." He looked over at Hawkmon, who was standing uncertainly in the doorway. "Come on in, Hawkmon, I don't bite!"     "I never thought you did!" Hawkmon retorted tartly. He stepped inside, closing the door.     "I see his sense of humour hasn't gotten much better," Daisuke muttered under his breath.     Miyako shrugged, grinning. "What can I say? I've done the best I know how to. Where's Veemon?"     "Hiding out in my room as Chibimon. He takes up less space that way, and he got rather used to it while we were over in America; they thought he was less threatening that way. He got a lot of mileage on him with Taichi's twins the other day."     "I bet! I swear, those two _definitely_ have the Yagami genki factor going on."     After taking her coat and shoes off, Miyako followed Daisuke into the living room, where he flopped down onto the couch with a heartfelt sigh. She arched an eyebrow at that, but said nothing; she'd let him start the conversation and work from there.     "So what's new in your life, Miyako? Still dating that French guy?"     Miyako made a face. "Not only no, but hell no. He made some rather derisive comments when he found out I live with Sora, and I took offence; you know I don't like close-minded people."     Daisuke grimaced, remembering well an incident that had happened in high school. "How are things going at home? I remember Shuu saying that she was thinking of dropping the tennis circuit and helping her mom out."     "That's what she's telling everyone else," she said with a sigh. "But really, Sora would like to join up with Mimi. She has quite good taste in fashion, and she may not have your talent for drawing but she's not bad. Sora's afraid of disappointing her mom, though, even though her father's urged her to do what she wants with her life."     "That sucks. But I kind of know how she feels; I mean, here I am with this psychology degree and an associate's in art, and I haven't a clue what the hell I'm going to do with it. My parents want me to choose a career that I can make a good living from, but I want to do something that will make me happy."     "Well, you like to help people," Miyako pointed out. "Have you ever thought about law enforcement? You could sketch suspects, or even go and get your master's and become a profiler."     Smoky-brown eyes blinked in surprise. "You know, I mentioned that before, but I never really _thought_ about that aspect seriously." He flashed her a crooked grin. "Thanks, Miyako."     "You're welcome, Dai-kun. So what have you been up to since you got back? Out terrorising old haunts?"     "Not really. As a matter of fact, I haven't gone much of anywhere at all. Taichi and Yamato want to take me out downtown, but I put them off for a while. And Takeru called just before you showed up to invite me to dinner with him and Hikari the night after tomorrow. Other than that, I've just been catching up with my family."     "Naa, did you bring any of your art back with you? I mean, I have all those images on my computer of the stuff you scanned and sent to me, but I was kind of hoping to see the real thing."     Daisuke flushed slightly. "I had to ship it all back as cheap as possible; I had quite a bit, after four years. I'm hoping it will get here in the next day or two."     Pregnant silence fell between them after that. Miyako's brow furrowed as she watched her friend fidget, hands knotted together, head bowed. There was something that was bothering him, that much was obvious, but she had a feeling—call it her inherited trait as the Keeper of Love—that she _knew_ what was bothering him. She didn't really want to bring it up, didn't want to cause him more pain, but it needed to be done; Daisuke would drive himself and those around him insane unless she did.     "Daisuke?"     She waited until he looked up at her, eyes wary. Miyako smiled gently, put all of the care she felt for him into her honey eyes, and said softly, "What about Ken?"     She knew for certain as soon as the words slipped free; Daisuke's entire demeanour crumpled as he turned away from her, hugging his arms close to his body. Opening her mouth to say something further, she was distracted by a crashing noise that came from down the hall.     Wiping at his eyes briefly to make sure there was no betraying moisture, Daisuke rose to his feet. "I'd better go see what happened," he muttered, darting down the hall towards his room.     Miyako frowned as she watched him go, eyes narrowed. _You're not getting away that easily, Motomiya._

Daisuke pushed open the door to his room, peering inside. Chibimon looked back at him guiltily, red eyes wide. "Okay, Chibimon, what happened?" 

    "We didn't _mean_ to, Daishuke!" Chibimon wailed, running forward and attaching himself to Daisuke's foot. "Hawkmon and I were looking at the pictures and the one fell of the desktop and broke and then I wasn't sure what to do and I panicked and, and, and—     Daisuke picked him up with a little laugh, looking over at Hawkmon who shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. "Chibimon, you're babbling."     "I was?" Chibimon blinked at that, considering it a moment. "Yeah, I guess I was. Sorry, Daishuke."     "It's okay," he said, rubbing the little Vaccine digimon's ears. "Are you both all right?"     "I picked up the worst of the glass, Daisuke-san," Hawkmon said. "However, I wouldn't recommend walking in here barefoot until you vacuum."     "Thanks," Daisuke said, giving the bird digimon a lopsided grin. "Why don't you and Chibimon go and have some of the brownies my mom made? They're out on the table."     "Yay!" Chibimon hopped down from his Chosen Child's arms, scurrying from the room as fast as his stubby legs would carry him. "Hawkmon, hurry up, hurry up!"     Daisuke chuckled, shaking his head. "You'd better go before he eats them all."     Hawkmon nodded, eyes wide in horror at that prospect. "Right!" he snapped before he dashed out the door.     Watching where he stepped, Daisuke made his way over to his desk and the fallen picture. He picked it up carefully, gaze flickering to the image as he set it back on the desk. He tried to keep his heart from constricting—he really, truly tried—but he couldn't help the painful, tightening sensation that seized him.     He and Ken, after-graduation party. All of the Chosen Children, including those already graduated and Iori, had hit the clubs that night. As Yamato had teased them all, it was their moment to cut loose before they woke up the next day and realised that they had to be responsible adults now. Taichi had cheekily pointed out later, after an extended make-out session on the middle of the dance floor, that he and the other Chosen Children still hadn't woken up to that day, so they didn't need to be in a hurry.     That night… That night had been absolutely wonderful. They'd danced and partied till they couldn't stand up, and then they'd all collapsed at Mimi's house for the night. But while they'd danced—while he and Ken had danced—it had been, to put it simply, magic. He could still remember clearly holding the slender, wiry boy in his arms, could remember the scent of his tousled inky hair, the taste of his pale skin and kiss-bruised lips.     He wasn't certain who'd taken the picture. Most likely, it had been Hikari; she did things like that. Whoever it had been, he'd never noticed their presence as they'd captured to film the image of Ken cradling Daisuke's tanned face in his bird-boned hands, pale violet eyes bright with emotion, lips smiling before he touched them to Daisuke's own.     And now that image was ringed by jagged glass, and Daisuke couldn't help but wonder if it was an omen. His legs gave way beneath him, and he abruptly found himself seated on the edge of his bed, trembling. Giving up the effort of maintaining his mask, Daisuke cradled his face in his hands and allowed the tears to trickle between his fingers as they willed. _Ken…what's happened to us? Why won't you talk to me?_

Miyako almost cried as she watched Daisuke from the doorway; watched him pick up the photograph and set it on the desk, watched how expression changed and faltered as he stared at it, watched him fall to the bed without so much as a sob and give in to the tears she'd known he'd been harbouring. 

    She stepped into the room and sat beside him, wrapping her arms around him, letting him bury his face in the crook of her neck. "Have you tried to call him?" she asked softly, running her hand up and down his back soothingly.     "I t-tried," he sniffled, clenching his eyes shut. The tears leaked past despite his efforts, dripping down his cheeks to be soaked up by Miyako's shirt. "A-all I ever g-get is the a-answering machine. I don't w-want ta talk to some s-stupid machine! I wanna t-talk ta _him_!" He broke off, unconsciously clenching her shirt in his hands. In a hoarse whisper, he added, "I d-don't understand what's goin' on."     Miyako wasn't sure that she had any better of an idea than Daisuke did. True, she'd seen the ebon-haired boy often enough, and they did talk since they were both close to Daisuke, but Ken had never really mentioned their relationship. And, despite all of the Chosen Children's best efforts over the years, there was no one that Ken was open with completely other than Daisuke. She could understand it if they'd grown apart a bit—after all, Daisuke _had_ been in America for the past four years—but she couldn't understand why he was lying to Daisuke. Well, maybe it wasn't exactly lying, but she couldn't understand why he hadn't told Daisuke about what was going on.     If she got her hands on Ichijouji Ken any time soon, she was going to give him quite a piece of her mind. She wasn't going to let him get away with making Daisuke cry, not like this, not without an explanation.     Daisuke continued to cry softly as Miyako held him, thoughts a million miles away. _Why, Ken-chan? Why?_

[Part II] 


	2. Part II

**Once in a Lifetime —**  
Part II  
by Mina

  


Standard disclaimers for Digimon apply. _Once in a Lifetime_ (at least, the version I'm listening to ^_^) is sung by Sarah Brightman, the _true_ diva of divas in my opinion. I found the lyrics to be exquisitely appropriate for this fic and the (::cough::_psychotic_::cough::) idea behind it. My Spanish is so minimal anymore I had to resort to the lovely Spanish-English dictionary for help, so if there are discrepancies, I apologise. 

P.S. All suing would get you is this stack of bills I'm avoiding, this little Post-It note my imouto stuck to my monitor that says 'You have no life!' ::Duh!::, and the rabid foxboy running around with a tube of wasabi. ::wails:: 'Lendel-chaaan! Kaerimashou! 

K'lendel: No! ::mad cackle:: Do not meddle in the affairs of foxboy muses, Mina-kaachan, for you are crunchy and taste good with wasabi! 

::sweatdrop:: Well, that explains the wasabi at least…. 

Warnings: Still the same shmucky stuff as Part I. Really, it's surprising how it takes people awhile to catch on… 

* * *

"Ken-chan…"     Something softly nudged the arm he had flung over his eyes, but Ichijouji Ken ignored it, trying to remain locked in sleep.     "Ken-chan."     The pressure of the nudges increased, the tone of the nudger firming. Still, Ken continued to ignore the insistent prodding, going so far as to burrow deeper in his nest of blankets.     "Ken-chan!"     "Shit!" Ken shot up out of the blankets, eyes wide as he glanced at the teeth marks in his hand. He turned to his assailant with a pale, violet glare. "You bit me!"     Wormmon glared right back; he'd gotten almost absurdly good at it over the years. "You were ignoring me!     _So I was,_ the black-haired man thought sourly, flopping back down in his bed. "All right, now I'm awake. What do you want?"     The little Virus digimon flinched at his Chosen Child's biting tone. "I just wanted to let you know that there's another message from Daisuke on the answering machine."     Ken flinched at the mention of Daisuke's name. "Is that all?" It came out a lot sharper than he intended, but—as had become the norm, lately—he didn't bother to soften it with an apology.     "Um, well, no." Wormmon dropped down from the bed onto the floor, scurrying towards the door.     "Well, what else?"     "Um, there's a really mad lady pounding on the door and she says if you don't answer she'll make certain that you never have children in any life time. She also mentioned something about pink flamingo lawn ornaments…"     "Damn." Ken rolled over, burying his face in his pillow with a groan. _It's too early in the morning for this._     "Kai—Ken." Wormmon corrected himself softly, wishing that he hadn't slipped; he only hoped that Ken hadn't noticed. "Ken, I can make her go away if you want."     "No, Wormmon. I'll deal with this on my own," the man said, sitting up and leaving the bed with a sigh. He paused long enough to pull on last night's discarded pants—leather, midnight blue—and the t-shirt hanging on the back of the chair—matching the pants with white and black horizontal stripes. He ran his fingers through his hair, doing his best to make the shoulder-length strands lay flat, and made his way towards the door.     Sure enough, someone was pounding on his front door as if they were trying to break it down. _I'm surprised this hellacious racket didn't wake me before Wormmon did._ And, sure enough, the raised voice he could hear grumbling was female.     "…swear, Ichijouji, if you don't open this fucking door _right now_, I'm not only going to throttle you with my bare hands, I'll have every one of my siblings and cousins help as well! Ichijouji!"     Ken rolled his eyes with a snort of exasperation. People, these days, could be such a nuisance; had they no respect for privacy? He slipped the chain from the door and turned the knob, pasting on his most obnoxious, condescending expression possible. "Woman, what the hell do you _want_? Most civilised people at least wait until noon before they annoy people."     Too bad for Ken that he forgot to look and see who he was talking to.     "It's four in the afternoon, Ichijouji, and don't even think about taking that Kaiser-ish tone of voice with me, you bastard!" Miyako snapped just before her fist impacted with Ken's jaw and laid him out cold.     Wormmon scuttled over to Ken, his eyes wide. "What did you _do_?" he asked Miyako worriedly.     "Hit him a lot harder then I meant to," groused Miyako as she shook her sore hand, stepping into the large apartment and shutting the door behind her. "Oh, don't worry, Wormmon. I didn't do any permanent damage to him—unfortunately. Believe me, I currently feel like doing a lot worse than just hitting him. The most that'll happen is he'll wake up with a headache."     "Miyako-san, why did you hit Ken-chan?" He knew he should be upset with Miyako—she had hurt his Chosen Child, after all. But with the way Ken had been acting the past six months, he couldn't help but feel a bit relieved to see the man knocked off his feet for a while.     And that thought made him sad.     She kicked off her shoes with a sigh, moving to stand over the prone figure. Unconscious, Ken seemed absolutely innocent, childlike, and it hardly went with the things she'd been hearing from the other Chosen Children. "Wormmon, while your 'Ken-chan' is taking a nap, you and I need to have a talk."     Wormmon cringed slightly at her waspish tone but nodded. "All right, Miyako-san. Where's Hawkmon?"     "With Yamato and Taichi and Chibimon," Miyako said as she picked him up and headed for the couch. She felt a little bad for leaving Ken lying in the middle of the entryway, but there was no way she was going to try and move his tall, lanky frame; besides, he wouldn't be out that long, anyway.     "Chibimon?" Wormmon perked up at the mention of his closest friend—well, after his Ken-chan. "Is Daisuke back in Japan?"     "Yeah. That's why Daisuke's been calling and trying to get a hold of him. Why hasn't Ken called him back, Wormmon?"     The question went straight to the point, but the digimon tried to hedge. "Has Daisuke called Ken then, Miyako-san?"     Miyako arched an eyebrow, giving him a Look. "Don't try to play coy with me, Wormmon. You and I both know that Daisuke's called here many times."     Wormmon sighed, nodding sorrowfully. He'd never been very good at lying anyway. "You're right."     Sympathising a bit with his position, Miyako began to scratch his head. After all, Ken's actions weren't _his_ fault. "What's going on, Wormmon? Daisuke is absolutely worried sick, you know. Ken won't return his calls, and he found out that Ken's been lying to him."     "Ken-chan lies to everyone these days," he muttered. "He gets all moody and snappish, and he hides things from people—even from me." He looked up at her then, with his wide blue eyes, and said, "Miyako, I'm worried. I'm afraid I'm losing my Ken-chan all over again and I don't know why this time."     Miyako didn't like the sound of that, but she didn't let Wormmon see that. "Well, let's try to find out, shall we?"     "All right, Miyako." 

Awareness came back slowly, and when it did, it didn't feel good. Ken clutched his pounding head with a groan, eyes clenched tightly shut. "Did anyone get the number of the War Greymon that hit me?" he muttered, slowly sitting up. 

    "It wasn't a War Greymon, Ichijouji, it was me. Although, you might have been better off if it _had_ been a War Greymon."     Ken turned his head slowly as he opened his eyes, staring at the woman on his couch with his digimon perched on her lap.     _"Traitor."_     As soon as the thought occurred, his eyes widened and he shook his head. _Where…where did that thought come from?_ "M-Miyako, what are you doing here?"     Both of Miyako's eyebrows rose at his tone; currently he sounded like the Ichijouji Ken she knew, not like the Digimon Kaiser he had sounded like a scant half-hour before. "I came to talk with you."     Gingerly he touched his jaw, wincing as that slight contact caused a fresh bloom of pain. "And you hit me because…?"     Was he playing with her? She pursed her lips thoughtfully as she looked him over. No, he seemed to be sincere. So why was it that he didn't remember? "I hit you because I was already angry, and then you pulled a Kaiser-ish stunt on me that made me even more mad. I didn't mean to hit you as hard as I did."     Ken nodded, accepting her answer easily; after all, all of the Chosen Children knew Miyako had a phenomenal temper that was second to none. "So, what brings you over to my apartment, Miyako?" he asked softly, rising to his feet. He frowned as he brushed his pants off. _And what am I doing in these pants? I haven't worn these since Dai-kun…_     "Play the message, Wormmon," Miyako said with a sigh, setting the little Virus digimon down.     Wormmon made his way towards the answering machine, sitting up and tapping the 'Play' button carefully.     "Ken? Ah, Ken, this is…"—there was a heartfelt sigh—"…this is Daisuke. Again."     "Dai-kun?" Ken slowly sank back down to the floor, his eyes wide as the message continued to play.     "Look, Ken, I just…wanna talk to you. I know you're probably busy and all, but…" Daisuke's voice cracked a little. "Talk to me, Ken? Please?"     The message ended there, and Ken looked at Miyako in bewilderment. "What did he mean 'again'? Miyako, how many times has Daisuke called? Where is he?"     "He's home, Ken, and has been for over a week," Miyako said gently. "He's tried to call you at least a dozen times, but the line's either busy or you won't answer the phone."     "He's left four messages," Wormmon added, trundling towards his Chosen. He changed his mind about halfway there, unsure of his reception. He sat back instead and regarded Ken with wide, watchful eyes.     Ken was completely and utterly confused. Why was Wormmon regarding him with that wary, hurt expression? He hadn't seen that look in…in over ten years. And why was Miyako looking at him with such untrusting eyes? "Did…did something happen?" he asked tentatively. His elation at finding out that Daisuke was home was muffled by the oddities that were going on in his home.     Miyako sighed, sensing an impending headache. _Why do these things always happen to me?_ she wondered. "Ken…you've been keeping things from Daisuke, haven't you?"     Grimacing, Ken nodded. "Some things, yes. I didn't tell him that I was taking a year off from college because I was afraid he'd think something was wrong. I mean, there was some stuff going on with my family, but it's fine now. But you know how Daisuke is; he worries over everything. And there's nothing to worry about, really, I just wanted some time to think things through, to figure out what kind of a future I'd have. Because I want it to include him"—there was a small pause as violet eyes turned haunted—"since a future without Daisuke isn't a future I want."     Running a hand through her long, violet hair, Miyako began to wonder if Ken didn't suffer from some sort of multiple personality disorder. She'd actually had that thought back when he'd been the Digimon Kaiser and they had been trying to stop him from taking over the Digitalworld, but she'd never bothered to follow up on it after his fall and return to being just Ichijouji Ken, Keeper of Kindness.     Now, however…now she had plenty more reason to wonder. Ken's behaviour was extremely peculiar, to say the least.     "Ken, has anything…strange, been going on lately?"     "What do you mean?"     There it was again—that confused, slightly lost look! She fought the urge to scream, tamping down her temper and striving for patience.     "Have you been feeling, oh, I don't know, resentful towards Daisuke? I mean, four years is a long time to be separated."     "Never!" Ken protested heatedly, eyes snapping with fire. "I'd never resent Daisuke for that. As a matter of fact, I'm the one that pushed him into going. I love him, I believe in him, I trust him." He pressed his closed fist against his heart, staring at her resolutely. "His heart, with mine, always."     _"Well, half of your heart anyway. Isn't that right,_ Ken-chan?"     He started as that voice spoke again, trying to remain outwardly calm. After all, he didn't want to tip Miyako off that something was wrong. _What have you been doing to Daisuke?!_     _"I? _We_, sweet Ken-chan. After all, I am half your heart, am I not? And Daisuke would never love me."_     His brow furrowed, and he turned his gaze down to his hands so that Miyako wouldn't see he was glaring. _You are _not_ me, Kaiser. And I am not you._     _"Oh, then who am I? I'm not something that just showed up one day out of nowhere, you know. And you hate that, don't you? The two of us, trapped in the same body…both of us wanting him…"_     Ken burned at that thought. Not that he'd ever admitted it to Daisuke, even after all their time together, but the Kaiser had been a very imaginative twelve-year-old—especially when it came to the genki, olive-skinned Keeper of Courage and Friendship.     _"Why do you think you wanted him so badly, _Ken-chan_? And why are you so worried? He hates me—hates me even more than you do. But you…he loves you."_     _What did you do?!_     He couldn't explain what the Kaiser—that's what he thought of the voice as, someone separate from himself—said next. He couldn't understand why the Kaiser said it the way he said it. And most of all, he couldn't understand why he felt the same burning pain in his heart that came across in the Kaiser's voice. _"If I can't have him too, why should you?"_     "Ken!"     The ebon-haired man jumped when Miyako snapped her fingers in front of his face, nearly toppling over backwards. He looked up at her guiltily, an embarrassed flush on his pale cheeks. "I'm sorry, Miyako. What were you saying?"     "What _were_ you thinking about?" she murmured. Ken had the feeling that it was a rhetorical question, however, and declined to answer.     Miyako sighed and shook her head. "I need to be going, Ken. I'm taking Daisuke out to dinner to try and cheer him up a bit. But, you should know"—she pinned him with sharp, honey eyes—"that the only thing that will really cheer him up is you."     "I'm sorry, Miyako," he said hoarsely. "I've been very flighty lately…"     She knew there was more going on than Ken was letting on, but she wasn't going to push him—not yet, anyway. "Don't apologise to me, Ken; I'm not the one hurting."     And with that, Miyako stood, collected her shoes, and left Ken's apartment.     As soon as the door had closed, Ken's fist slammed into the carpet. His head was bowed to hide the tears that slid down his cheeks, and he'd bitten his lip so hard that blood began to wind down his chin and join the crystalline tracks. Damn you, Kaiser!     Rather than the laugh he was expecting, the only reply he received was a deep, resigned sigh. _"I already am, Ken-chan; I'll never have his love."_

_Let me dive in  
To pools of sin  
Wet black leather on my skin  
Show me the floor  
Lay down the law  
I need to taste you more  
_

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Niichan?" Yagami (soon to be Takaishi) Hikari asked worriedly, glancing back and forth between her brother and his lover. "I mean, Takeru and I had planned on taking him to dinner tomorrow with just the two of us. If we get the whole group together, with the way Daisuke's been acting, we might overwhelm him." 

    "No," Taichi replied honestly. "For all I know, we could be making things worse. But you and I both know that we need to do something before Daisuke slides even further into depression over this. And it's a perfectly legitimate excuse, really, with him having just returned and all."     "God, Hikari-chan, he looks awful." Yamato sighed after making that statement, unconsciously leaning against Taichi. "Jun was practically in tears when she called me, and Miyako hasn't been much better, in case you haven't noticed. She tried taking him out to dinner last night, and things went along well for a while. But when she stopped by this morning, he was in tears again."     "What happened?" she asked, concerned for the well being of one of her closest friends.     "Daisuke's artwork arrived today. From what Miyako was saying, nearly all of it is a tribute to his friends and family."     "Let me guess: most of _that_ had to do with Ken."     Yamato smiled sourly. "Got it in one. By the way, did you hear that she knocked Ken out cold when she visited him yesterday?"     "No!" Hikari stared at him in disbelief. "Miyako hit Ken? Why?!"     "Hawkmon said it was because Ken was acting funny," Gabumon supplied helpfully from his position on the floor, curled up with the twins and Agumon, all of whom were sound asleep.     "So? Acting funny is no reason to hit someone!"     "Not acting funny, Hikari, acting _funny_," Tailmon purred as she jumped into the conversation—and into her Chosen Child's lap. No one missed the emphasis she had placed on the word the second time. "Miyako told Hawkmon that Ken was acting like the Kaiser."     "Dark Seed…"     Taichi hadn't noticed that the words had slipped from his lips, and when he looked up, he blinked in confusion as he found everyone staring at him. "What? What'd I do?"     "Do you really think it's the Dark Seed?" Hikari asked softly. "I mean, after all this time…?"     "Well, it's not like we really know all that much about the Dark Seed," Taichi admitted. "And it was just a random thought that managed to pop out."     "Imagine that," Yamato drawled teasingly, softening his words by wrapping his arms around his lover.     Hikari sighed, her shoulders slumping; she hoped that Takeru would return from class soon to hold her hand and tell her that things would be okay. "If that's true, then maybe we should go through with this. We'll just need to be sure to keep an extra close eye on Ken."     "It'll be okay, Hikari-chan; you'll see," Tailmon said, patting her leg.     The Keeper of Light smiled down at her partner waveringly. "I hope you're right, Tailmon. I hope you're right." 

"No." 

    Hikari scowled, hands on her hips. This was turning out to be a lot harder than she'd thought it would be; apparently Daisuke's 'Stubborn' level had grown while he was away as well. "Why? You were fine with going to dinner with Takeru and I. The whole group would really like to see you, Dai-kun."     "Because."     "Not good enough," she snapped. "Now get changed before I have my brother, brother-in-law, and fiancé come in and manhandle you into cooperating."     Daisuke continued to look up at her darkly. "You fight dirty, Hikari-chan."     "So?"     When Hikari's expression remained firm, he finally decided to give in to the inevitable and yield. "Fine, I'll go. But I want it on the record that I didn't want to."     "Duly noted," she murmured dryly.     Half way to the door, she paused when Daisuke began to laugh softly. "What's so funny?" she asked archly. Inwardly, though, she was elated. Daisuke was laughing; that was a definite plus sign.     "I just realised that after you marry Takeru, Yamato will be your brother-in-law—again!" He set off into another peal of laughter, heading for his closet.     "Daisuke, you are _such_ a fruitcake," Hikari muttered as she fled from the room before more random insanity could free itself from his mouth.     Moments later, Daisuke emerged dressed to the hilt in his party clothes—his kind of party clothes, of course.     Yamato blinked at him in amazement, looking him over from head to toe. "Wow, Daisuke, it looks like those art classes paid off after all. That's the best outfit I've seen you put together yet!"     "Shut up," Daisuke growled, blushing under the scrutinising gazes of four humans and five digimon. He fiddled with one of the numerous, slender bracelets that encircled his wrists, smoky eyes daring them to push their luck.     They did, of course.     "Damn, I can't believe you still _fit_ in those things!" Takeru laughed, shaking his head.     "Well, they were a bit too big when he bought them our last year of school," Hikari reminded him with a small smile. "Remember how Mimi found that neat chain belt in her closet and used it to keep Daisuke's pants from falling off his hips?"     "Yes, let's dredge up Daisuke's embarrassing past and talk about him like he's not here!" said Daisuke heatedly.     "Okay!" the four humans chorused, not missing a beat.     "Why me?" Daisuke rolled his eyes heavenward in askance.     Taichi jumped to his feet with a laugh, slinging an arm about Daisuke's shoulders. "We're just teasing because we care, Dai-kun! Although, truth be told, I think those pants look a lot better on you now than they did four and a half years ago." Taichi leered mischievously, winking at the auburn-haired man.     Takeru and Hikari stifled giggles behind their hands. Yamato made a big deal out of seeming offended, glaring at the two former Goggle Boys. To their surprise, he pulled his harmonica out from _somewhere_, pointing it menacingly at Taichi. "All right, Ishida-Yagami! Back away from the eye-candy—without copping an unnecessary feel—and no one gets hurt."     Daisuke blinked at that. _Copping an unnecessary feel?_ Slowly, with a dawning sense of trepidation, he turned his head to glance at Taichi and blanched.     Taichi was looking at Yamato speculatively, brown eyes hooded. He drummed his fingers softly, teasingly against Daisuke's shoulder, a smirk slowly spreading on his face. "And what're you going to do if I do cop a feel, Yama? Beat me with your harmonica?"     "With your hard head it'd take till the next millennium to even make a dent," Daisuke muttered.     Yamato smiled slowly, continuing to brandish the harmonica. "No. That would be a waste of a perfectly good harmonica. I think I'll just…play _Zurezurenaru Kisetsu_!"     Taichi cringed, jumping away from Daisuke immediately without any extra touching. "Please don't!"     "Oi, what's wrong with _Zurezurenaru Kisetsu_?" Daisuke demanded. "I happen to like Kotani Kinya!"     "So do I," Taichi whimpered. "Which is why I refuse to allow Yama to desecrate one of my favourite songs with his harmonica!"     A blonde eyebrow rose. "_Abracadabra_ then, perhaps?"     "Nooo!"     Yamato chuckled, putting the harmonica back into its hiding place—wherever _that_ was. "Taichi got _History P-20_ a couple weeks ago, and I swear he plays it twenty-four/seven."     "Do not," Taichi retorted, sticking out his tongue.     "Do too." Yamato winked, blowing him a kiss. "Taichi's so cute when he bounces around and raps along with _Easy Action_ that I don't complain, though."     "Daishuke does that too!" Chibimon giggled, bouncing about the room and mimicking his Chosen Child to near perfection. "_Kotaba yori mo kagayaku, hontou no toko no mise you…_"     The humans and digimon all laughed as Daisuke chased after the zooming, genki bundle of blue, finally managing to catch up with him on the last lines of the song.     "_…kimi no mune ni, tobi tte neruhazu_—eep!"     "Ha-hah, gotcha!" Daisuke crowed, holding his catch aloft.     Chibimon nodded with another giggle, red eyes wide. "Okay, let's go now!"     Daisuke turned to his friends, pushing aside his melancholy feelings and depression with familiar doggedness. "Well, you heard His Royal Chibiness; let's go, everyone!" 

* * *

There were days, Ken thought, when he was certain he was completely insane. Today was one such day, and as he sat in the taxi, fingers pressed against the glass of the window, he wondered how it was he'd managed to make it as far as he had without having a nervous breakdown. 

    "Maybe we should have taken the train," he murmured, violet eyes vacant as he gazed out the window at everything and nothing.     "It would have taken just as long, Ken-chan," Wormmon said from his lap. "At least, it would at this time of day."     He smiled at that, absently scratching the top of the digimon's head. "If we'd known a little sooner, we could have just walked over. But, Mimi-san is ever fond of last minute parties.     "All the Chosen Children and partner digimon will be there?"     "Yeah." Raven hair swung gently as Ken nodded, but his attention quickly drifted once again away from his companion.     Ever since Mimi had called two hours earlier, he'd been worrying about what would happen when he met with the other Chosen Children. Miyako was probably still angry with him, though he hoped she wouldn't strike him again anytime soon; the bruise on his jaw was still quite tender from the last time.     _I deserved it, though, from what she and Wormmon were telling me. Acting like_ him_…_     There was a soft, dry mental chuckle. _"Thinking about me again, are we, Ken-chan?"_     _Unfortunately._     A brief, silent pause in his thoughts, and then, _"Is it really so bad, Ken-chan? After all, if it wasn't for my feelings for him, you might not even be here as we speak, contemplating how things will go when you see him."_     Ken bit his lip, eyes half closed, not noticing the passing scenery or the stalls in traffic. _I trust him. Daisuke…he loves me, us, whatever. Everything will be fine tonight._ And he believed that, he truly did. Once he was able to see his lover again, to touch him, to hold him, everything would be perfect.     Ken-Kaiser hissed at his words. _"Wrong! He loves _you_, Ken-chan; he could never love me, never love the Kaiser."_     _How can you be so certain?_ Ken retorted, smiling down at Wormmon, who was patting his arm anxiously. _Daisuke's not a shallow person._     _"No, he's not; that was part of the reason I was drawn to him in the first place. But still…I don't…"_     He wondered at his other half's reservations, wondered why he had chosen to go about things the way he had. _Do you need proof?_     _"Yes!"_ The reply was sharp, concise, but filled with a sense of wistful hope that would have seemed odd to anyone.     Anyone, except Ken; he was the Kaiser, after all, and in the end…in the end, their thoughts flowed exactly the same. As much as he'd tried to deny it, after Miyako had left that day, he'd thought long and hard about what he'd said. He and the Kaiser weren't really two separate people…but they were two separate trains of thought, trapped inside of the same body.     The taxi pulled to a stop outside of a large, upscale apartment building. He paid the driver and collected Wormmon and his small bag, containing guest-gifts for his hosts and his friends. Ken took the moments of silence provided by entering the apartment and climbing into the elevator to think. Halfway up to the top floor, he reached his decision.     _Tonight, Kaiser. I'll give you tonight, with him, to prove it._     _"What's the catch?"_ Ken-Kaiser asked suspiciously.     _No grandstanding, no trying to deliberately scare Daisuke away. If you want to prove that Daisuke can love you and me, you have to show him the real you, not the cruel bastard that he fought._     _"Now you're getting personal, Ken-chan…"_     Ken's lips twitched into a smile at the Kaiser's sour tone. _It's the truth, though. Back then, you were so busy fighting yourself—we were so busy fighting _ourselves_—that we did a lot of things we wouldn't normally have done. We took our frustration out on anyone and anything, regardless if they were at fault or not._     _"…How can you be so certain, Ken-chan, that we are the same?"_     _I knew, the first time he kissed me; back when we were twelve, that night that he tasted of strawberries and innocence. I knew, then, that you and I were the same, because I felt for him what you felt for him. I kept trying to deny it…but it's the truth, and I can't keep turning away from it. But you need proof. Take tonight, but be careful. We've already garnered suspicion from nearly every quarter._     _"Fine."_     And with that, Ken's demeanour shifted from the somewhat-shy and hesitant Ken-chan to the more self-assured, charismatic Ken-Kaiser. It wasn't really a drastic change; it was kind of like watching ripples on a lake settle after a rock had been tossed in.     "Ken-chan, are you okay?" Wormmon asked his question softly, blue eyes watching the face of his Chosen Child.     _Be myself…how can I be myself when I'm not even certain I _am_ myself?_     His violet eyes were a little sharper than usual, the smile on his face more sensual than gentle, but when he responded to the little digimon's question, it seemed as though nothing was amiss.     "I'm fine, Wormmon," he murmured, looking up when the elevator made a slight ringing noise to let him know they'd reached their destination.     "Are you sure?" Wormmon asked doubtfully.     Ken wanted to snap at him, wanted to respond sharply, but something pulled him up short. _Daisuke…_ He took in a deep breath, counted to ten, and then stepped from the elevator before replying. "I'm sure, Wormmon. After all, Daisuke will be there."     Wormmon blinked at that as they walked down the hall. "That's a good thing, Ken-chan?" he ventured hesitantly.     The digimon's tone made him flinch. He had been trying to push Daisuke away, so certain that the cheerful and effervescent Keeper of Friendship and Courage would never accept him. But now…now was his chance, to see if Daisuke would prove him wrong. _Please…_please_ prove me wrong!_     "Of course it's a good thing, Wormmon." _Daisuke… Of course, it's a good thing; Daisuke is always a good thing._

_Then I feel your sea  
Raining down on me  
Can this be my once in a lifetime?  
Hell's at heaven's door  
As I need you more  
You know you're my once in a lifetime  
_

Daisuke lingered in the shadow of the balcony, absently swirling the liquid in his glass around. Night was falling on Tokyo, the dying sunlight filtering through the haze of smog and buildings to play across the faceted glass. 

    "Don't think too deeply, Daisuke," teased Miyako, coming through the doorway to stand beside him. "After all, I wouldn't want you to spontaneously combust."     "Geek," he said with a smile, catching her eye. "Did you come out here just to enlighten me, or was there something else you wanted to say?"     Miyako shook her head with a smile, toying with a strand of long lavender hair. "Not really. I just wanted to see how you were doing. It appears that you managed to hold up rather well under Mimi's welcome."     "Yes, well, I think the fact that she had Hanako in her arms at the time helped to save me from suffering an untimely death by hugging. She's a cute kid."     "Yeah, she is." Miyako sighed, leaning against the doorway. "Daisuke, I…I kind of have a question to ask you. It's not personal," she assured him hurriedly, "I just…just want your opinion, that's all."     An eyebrow arched at that as Daisuke sipped from his drink. "All right, you've piqued my interest. Fire away."     Glancing down at her hands, which were twisted in the fabric of her shirt, Miyako murmured with a faint blush, "How…how do you know, when you're in love?"     Daisuke blinked in surprise, cocking his head to the side. "Well, I think I understood you clearly, Miyako, but I'm not sure if I'm the one you should be asking. Besides, you're the Keeper of Love; shouldn't you know?"     She looked up, smiling weakly. "Well, I'm pretty good when it comes to others, but I seem to be rather terrible when it comes to myself. My long string of exes is an example. And you're the one I feel comfortable asking; Mimi knows, but she wasn't able to really help, and asking Taichi or Yamato would yield absolutely no help since they'd be too busy giving each other puppy eyes."     "What about Hikari?" he asked. "I mean, any of them would be better than me!"     "Hikari told me to ask you," she replied.     "She to ld you to ask _me_, huh? Figures." He looked out across the building- and people-studded landscape once again, glass held at his side. "I…I didn't know it was love, for a very long time. I knew that he was special, that he'd always been special to me, even when I didn't know who he was. I knew that everything felt more alive when I was with him, that things seemed clearer, that I felt more connected to the world and myself. I knew that I loved to spend time with him, even if we weren't really doing anything; I loved being in the same room with him, watching him frown and poke at his textbooks, listening to him mutter to himself."     Miyako held her breath as he paused and waited for him to continue. When he didn't, taking a deep swallow from his drink and returning to staring in the distance, she let out the breath and asked gently, "So how did you know it was love then?"     "When I was willing to let him go."     Honey coloured eyes blinked rapidly in surprise. "Excuse me? What do you mean, Daisuke?"     Daisuke turned to her, smoky eyes distant. "First year of senior high school, Ken decided to tell his parents everything; about what had really happened in the Digitalworld, and about our relationship. His father was absolutely outraged; he told Ken that he was to cease all contact with me. You know how important Ken considers his family. He was so upset about it, and torn between two loyalties… On the one hand, he loved me—he'd told me that already, but I hadn't been able to say the words in return yet—but on the other hand, he loved his parents, his remaining link to Osamu.     "I hated to see him hurting." Daisuke looked down, scuffing his toe on the flooring. "I knew that our relationship didn't really bother his mom; she was just glad that he was happy. But his father was going to make him choose: them or me. I didn't want him to have to make that choice, didn't want him to hurt anymore. After a night of thinking, I arranged to meet Ken, and I made the choice for him: I told him it was over."     "You _didn't_," said Miyako, completely shocked at what she was hearing.     "I did—and I would do it again, if it would mean that Ken was happy."     She shook her head in disbelief; Daisuke had never shared any of this before. "What happened, then? I mean, none of us even knew that you'd broken up at any point."     A slight, sad smile slid across Daisuke's face. "He called my bluff. I was about halfway home when he caught up with me—it was raining something awful, and we were both completely soaked. He stood in front of me, angry and confused, hurting even more, and demanded an answer. He wanted to know why I was breaking up with him.     "At that point, I hadn't really thought about it very much. I mean, I hadn't thought about what my real reason was for not wanting to see him in pain, for choosing so that he didn't have to. And it was then, while the rain was pouring down on us, with him glaring up at me with tears in his eyes, that I realised why: I loved him so much that I was willing to let him go if it meant that he would be happier."     "And you told him then," Miyako said softly, smiling to herself.     "Yeah," he said with a rueful laugh. "It kind of slipped out, I was so shocked by the notion."     Miyako nodded, content to let the silence fall. She felt better about her own feelings now, much more sure than she'd been an hour ago. "Thank you, Daisuke."     "Welcome, Miyako. But I do have a question."     "What?"     He smiled mischievously and asked, "So do I know this lucky person you've fallen for?"     Miyako opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a cheerful voice from behind.     "Daisuke, Miyako! So this is where you two disappeared to," Takenouchi Sora teased, one hand resting on her hip.     "Just talking, Sora," Daisuke assured her, eyes twinkling. "So, Miyako, you were saying?" He looked over at her, catching the expression she was trying to hide, and made his realisation before she even spoke.     "Yeah, Dai-kun; yeah, you do." Miyako said the words quietly, not once taking her eyes from Sora as the redhead engaged them in conversation. 

"Ken!" Mimi greeted enthusiastically, handing Hanako to the toddler's father before throwing her arms around the ebon-haired man. She smiled prettily when she stepped back, pausing to scratch Wormmon on top of the head. "All the digimon are hanging out in the side room over there; if I heard correctly, they were talking about starting up a round of charades." 

    Wormmon blinked blue eyes in confusion. "Ken, what's charades?"     Ken laughed, giving the little digimon a hug. "It's a game, Wormmon. I'll let the others teach it to you." He set the digimon down and he trundled towards the open doorway from which shrieks of intermittent laughter erupted.     Mimi touched Ken's arm to gain his attention when she noticed him glancing around. "He's over on the balcony," she murmured, magenta eyes shining. "You might want to wait until he's done talking with Sora and Miyako, though."     He nodded in agreement, not wanting to have spectators to their reunion. "I'll just…wait for an opportunity."     She smiled almost impishly at that, saying, "I might just see what I can do to help you with that."     That said, Mimi collected her child back from her fiancé, kissed his cheek, and began to make her way across the room. 

_Todo tu cuerpo temblara_

    **All your body will tremble**  
_Pero esta ves, es realidad _     **But this time it will be real**  
_Aunque el tiempo pase_     **Though time passes by**  
_Nunca _     **Never**  
_Nunca me olividaras _     **Never will you forget me**  
_Sera _     **It will be**  
_Solo una ves en tu vida_     **Only once in your lifetime**  


Left to his own devices, Ken found himself with a glass of some sort of alcoholic punch, engaged in conversation with Taichi and Yamato. 

    "You know," Yamato said after a moment, glancing at him surreptitiously, "Daisuke was worried that you might have found someone else."     His head jerked up at that, pale eyes wide. _Someone else? Someone other than Daisuke? Never!_     "There _is_ no-one else," he said somewhat hoarsely. "There never has been. No-one understands me the way he does; no-one makes me feel the way he does."     "I know what you mean," Yamato said with a silly little smile as he glanced at the brunette beside him. "But Daisuke seems to take after Taichi in that respect."     Taichi stuck his tongue out at his lover, after making a face. "What Yama is trying to say without trodding on my tender feelings is that Daisuke has an inferiority complex. He has days when he isn't sure how he could possibly have ended up with such a wonderful, amazing person, or how they could ever love him."     "But I do," said Ken softly. "Even though it's been four years, I still love him." _I've loved him since we were twelve—maybe even before that, though I never knew who he was. I know all of him, inside and out; his fears, his hopes, his dreams. He's mine, and I'm his. I know…_     _I know he dreams of me._ Ken's smile became almost cruel at that thought, staring under lowered lashes at the auburn-haired man talking animatedly with Sora and Miyako. _Or, at least, I know he dreams of his sweet Ken-chan. But what about me, ne? You dream of me, too, don't you Daisuke? You dream of the Kaiser, who won't submit to you but will make you submit instead. You dream of someone who can make you burn._     He licked his lips slowly, tongue darting across them like a cat licking cream as he imagined running his hands across Daisuke's dark skin, making him feel the same burn that raged through his own body. _Oh, how I could make you burn, Motomiya. I could make you writhe and beg in the sweet, fiery agony of passion. And if you knew I was the one doing it to you…you'd hate me, hate even more that I wear_ his _body, _his_ face. And I?_ He smirked, ducking his head so that his face was shadowed by the sweep of his long hair and Taichi and Yamato couldn't see his expression. _I would enjoy every single second._

Sora sighed as Miyako ran off to go and talk with Koushirou and Iori, her eyes following the girl's trail. 

    Daisuke hid a smirk behind his hand, shaking his head. Watching the pair of them while they'd talked, it hadn't taken him long to realise that Miyako's feelings were mutual. "Sora-san, just tell her."     "Huh?" Brown eyes blinked slowly, turning to Daisuke uncomprehendingly. "What are you talking about, Daisuke-kun?"     "Miyako. Tell her how you feel."     "I-I couldn't do t-that!" Sora stuttered, unconsciously taking a step back. "I mean, Miya-chan has everything going for her right now, and if I did that, I'd just ruin it. Besides…" She smiled sadly, watching as Miyako waved her hands excitedly while she spoke with the redheaded computer genius. "There's no way that someone like that would ever return my feelings."     Daisuke took up the older Keeper of Love's hands and looked her in the eye. "Sora, I've known Miyako for a very, very long time. She isn't very good with words when she needs to be, she has a terrible temper, and she's almost as impetuous as I am. She also isn't very good at being honest with herself. There's a reason that she asked you to be her apartment-mate three years ago; there's a reason that she can never find a guy worthy of her affections; there's a reason that she's pushing you to be happy by asking Mimi to join her company."     "And what would that be, Daisuke?" she asked softly. "It can't be love."     "Can't it? For someone that's so good in the area when it comes to the rest of us, you have remarkably little faith in yourself." _Like Miyako._ "Tell me something: all those years ago, when you spoke with Yamato before his concert during Christmas time, what did he tell you?"     Sora smiled slightly, recalling that awkward day. "He told me that he wasn't the one for me. At the time, I didn't realise that he and Taichi had gotten that far in their relationship—see? I'm not always right. I'd known that there was something there, but I'd hoped… Like I said, I'm horrible when it comes to matters of the heart that concern myself."     "What else did Yamato say, Sora?" Daisuke asked, continuing to smile.     "Oh, damn your persistence, Daisuke!" she said with a laugh. "Yamato told me that, someday, I would find someone that seemed so right, I wouldn't even notice they had my heart until it was too late."     "And how long did it take you to realise you loved Miyako?"     "Two years. I came home one night, late, after a really bad day at Kaasan's shop, and there she was at the table. She didn't say anything, she just handed me a cup of tea and smiled. I knew, then; knew that I didn't want to come back to the apartment anymore if she wasn't there."     "Then tell her, Sora."     Both Daisuke and Sora were startled as Mimi stepped from the shadows, little Hanako snuggled in her arms. She smiled fondly at her friend, nodding her head towards Miyako. "She feels the same for you, Sora, but she's afraid to speak. She's afraid you'll call her young, rash. She's afraid you'll think her silly, naïve. But most of all…most of all, she's afraid you won't give her a chance to love you, and so she never asks for one." Leaning in, she kissed the redheaded woman lightly on the cheek. "I love you like a sister, Sora, and I'm asking you: give her a chance to love you."     Mimi made as if to return to her fiancé's side, but paused for a moment, turning back with a grin. "Oh, and Sora? I would love to have you as an addition to the company."     Daisuke smiled brilliantly at that parting comment, giving Sora's hands a gentle squeeze. "Luck, Sora."     Sora smiled at him in return, her happiness shining through now that she had a purpose. "I'm not going to need it, Daisuke."     "Oh? So certain, are you?"     "Yep."     "And why's that?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.     Her smile turned secretive and she shrugged her shoulders. "Because I love her." 

_When you take me  
And make me cry  
Then I feel you satisfy  
Show me the cage  
It's all the rage  
And lock it up  
_

Ken chose to make his move as soon as Sora made to follow Miyako and Mimi made her way back to Jyou's side. His steps were light and quiet as he walked across the room, keeping the cover of shadow as he stood in the doorway and simply looked. 

    There was an empty glass set on the other side of the doorway, and Daisuke stood leaning on the balcony railing, the wind teasing through his spiky hair like the hand of a lover. His shoulders were slightly hunched, pulling tight the fabric of his blue satin shirt, his long-fingered artist's hands clenching the rail. Slim beaded bracelets encircled his wrists, though Ken couldn't help but notice that one of those bracelets was worn and faded, and made from embroidery floss.     He glanced briefly down at his own wrist with a smile, an identical bracelet lying there. _For Ken-chan, though,_ he thought, smile becoming uncertain. _Not for me._ He ignored the corner of his mind that called him foolish for such childish thoughts, shaking them off and returning to more pleasant thoughts.     Daisuke looked absolutely wonderful, much better than he remembered. Ken wanted nothing more than to step behind him and wrap slim arms around the man, to run his hands through that wild auburn hair, to memorise the feel of olive-toned flesh again, to taste the wild dreams that those full lips promised.     Instead, he opted for actual speech, a part of him surprised when he felt a nervous flutter in his stomach. _It's him…only he could do this to me._ Ken-chan, Ken-Kaiser…train of thought had never mattered in that respect; both would react the same way to the auburn-haired man. Lightly, and ever so softly, Ken said, "It's been a while, ne, Daisuke?"     It felt as though he waited forever for Daisuke to turn around, a forever in which he watched those shoulders tense, saw the hands clench the balcony rail till the knuckles went white. It was odd, this strange mix of feelings; part of him felt calm and in control, while another part trembled and waited with trepidation.     But when Daisuke did turn around, when those smoky-brown eyes lifted to meet his own, he felt pinned to the spot, as if Daisuke was seeing right through him into his soul. He felt unsure all over again though he slowly stepped forward, violet eyes staring unwaveringly at Daisuke's face until he stood only a few feet away.     The smoky eyes closed, and he watched with bated breath as a shudder ran the length of Daisuke's body before the eyes opened again.     _Touch me!_ Ken thought fiercely. In the matter of Daisuke, Ken-chan's tender wants were the passionate convictions of Ken-Kaiser. _Touch me, hold me…_need_ me! Need me the way that I need you._     And then Daisuke smiled, that quirky, almost shy grin that he'd grown to love, and held out his hand. "It's good to see you, Ken."     Ken smiled in return and closed his eyes, placing his hand in Daisuke's and letting the man pull him into a tight embrace, which he enthusiastically returned. 

_Found a part of me  
That's a mystery  
That will be just once in a lifetime  
When the moon is high  
Passion never dies  
Will you want me for all a lifetime?_  


"I'm sorry," Ken murmured against his chest, arms tight around Daisuke's middle. 

    "For what?"     Sighing, burying his face into the crook of Daisuke's neck and inhaling the spicy scent of forest and seaside—wild freedom—that had always been _Daisuke_, Ken said, "For taking so long to come to you."     Daisuke flinched, but pulled Ken closer. "I was afraid that you wouldn't see me at all," he said softly.     Ken pulled back, staring up at Daisuke in disbelief. "You _what_?!"     The auburn-haired man smiled slightly, tone a touch rueful. "No-one ever said I was the brightest firefly in the lantern."     Scowling fiercely, Ken reached up and laced his fingers into Daisuke's spiky hair, standing on his tiptoes until they were nose to nose. "That may be, Motomiya, but you're _my_ firefly."     "Really?"     The question was breathed across Ken's lips, a caress of cinnamon and alcohol scented warmth. "Always," he replied before leaning forward to do what he'd been waiting four years to do again.     Kiss the man he loved. 

"Well, that didn't take long," Hida Iori said dryly, bunched together with the rest of the Chosen Children. Neither Daisuke nor Ken had noticed them gathering very obviously near the balcony to try and catch what was going on. 

    "It didn't exactly take long the first time, either," Hikari said with a grin, sharing a look with Takeru before they turned to head back to the living room.     "Okay, we know now that things are going to be fine. So let's back off and give them some room, people."     Taichi smirked up at his lover after his comment, fingers flexing against the blonde's waist as he allowed himself to be led away. "Speaking from personal experience, Yama?" he asked.     "Oh, hush, Taichi. No picking on the blonde unless you don't want to get any later."     "Cutting me off? And here I'd been working on being a good boy…."     With a small smile, Yamato turned and kissed Taichi's forehead. Then, as an after thought, he dropped his head and kissed the lips that parted eagerly for him. "I do love you, Taichi."     Sherry-brown eyes sparkled with love and happiness, crinkling at the corners. "Yeah." 

Hours later, Daisuke and Ken were still sitting out on the balcony, the ebon-haired man in Daisuke's lap, arms around the man as if he'd never let go. 

    Yamato smiled at the sight, shaking his head. Though both he and Taichi had worried, it appeared that Ken and Daisuke took after themselves in the relationship department yet again.     "Hey, you two," he said softly, leaning against the doorway.     Daisuke looked up at him with a grin, and Ken smiled politely but didn't remove his arms from Daisuke. "Hey, Yamato. What's up?"     "Mimi says that the digimon have decided to have a sleepover here, so I thought I'd let you know that you're free to escape at any time."     "Just make sure they cut off Chibimon's sugar supply," Daisuke said with a small snort. "Otherwise they won't be sleeping at all."     Yamato laughed, shaking his head. "All right, Dai-kun, Ken. We'll see the two of you later."     "Does this mean I can have you all to myself tonight?" Ken whispered against Daisuke's ear once they were alone again.     "And what would you do if you had me all to yourself?" Daisuke asked. His hands found the hem of Ken's shirt, slowly making their way to the warm flesh that hid beneath.     Ken nibbled Daisuke's earlobe with a small, pleased smile. "Make up for four years worth of celibacy."     Daisuke shivered, closing his eyes. How long had he been waiting for this, wanting this again? How long had he been surviving on the memory of Ken's touch, his taste, his scent rather than having the real thing?     "Dai-kun…" Ken's fingers began to trail teasingly up the back of Daisuke's bared neck, sliding through spiky hair. Though it went against Ken-Kaiser's usual dictates, he let slip the two words that would give Daisuke complete control. "I love you."     Fingers flexed against Ken's waist as Daisuke turned his head to catch Ken's lips in a sweet, slow kiss.     "I know," he said softly. And he did know, for now, but he hoped that Ken would never tire of saying those words. "Take me home, Ken?"     Ken chuckled softly, violet eyes hooded with predatory promise. "I thought you'd never ask."     The time it took to leave Mimi and Jyou's apartment and reach Ken's seemed to pass in a whirl; neither Ken nor Daisuke were paying attention to anything other than each other.     Daisuke wasn't sure where he ended and Ken began as they stumbled together up the stairs, pausing in the shadowed hallways to kiss and touch. Ken's lips were swollen and wet from his heavy kisses, his pale eyes were heavy and dark with passion, and Daisuke thought that there was never a more evocative image.     "Mmmm, what are you thinking?" Ken asked huskily, head cocked to the side as he fumbled with the lock.     "I'm wondering how I managed to end up with such a wonderful, spectacularly sexy man," Daisuke said.     Ken's hands paused as he listened to those words, remembering what Yamato and Taichi had said earlier. He smiled inwardly, though, feeling some of his possessive fire fading. Daisuke was and always would be his—well, Ken-chan's, at least, but that still counted.     Opening the door, Ken grasped Daisuke's hand and pulled him inside, closing it again by pressing the auburn-haired man back against the door. Kami, but Daisuke was sexy when his eyes were lazy and his hair was tousled.     "And what are you thinking, Ken?" Daisuke asked, pressing his palms flat against the door.     Ken smiled wickedly, toeing his shoes off. "I was thinking how you'd look in chocolate sauce—in _only_ chocolate sauce."     Daisuke groaned, shaking his head even as he toed his own shoes off. "Ken, you're evil."     "But you still love me, right?" Ken's tone was innocent as he grasped Daisuke's hands and began to tug him towards the bedroom.     "Why, yes, I believe I do." 

Once again like naïve fumblings in the dark, clothing fell to the floor, breathing became difficult as hands wandered in an effort to become reacquainted with long-missed flesh, and all thoughts of "why" were thrown out the proverbial window. 

    Ken tumbled them both onto his bed, dark hair spilling over his shoulders and onto Daisuke as he crawled to his preferred place of worship.     "_Mine_," Ken declared breathlessly against the side of Daisuke's neck, tongue gliding across sweat-slick skin. "Now, always…"     "Of course," Daisuke groaned, fingers lacing through ebon hair, tugging Ken's head back for a deep kiss. And after that, there was only the sound of sweat slick skin, of tongue and mouth, of breathy voices and groaned proclamations—of possession. 


End file.
